


We Have Until The End Of Our Lives, I Believe

by Idzzdi



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Marriage Proposal, proposal fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-06
Updated: 2014-03-06
Packaged: 2018-01-14 18:52:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1277113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Idzzdi/pseuds/Idzzdi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry is like that girlfriend that keeps pressuring for marriage and Louis is the boyfriend who wants to get married too but he's so stressed about making the proposal perfect.</p><p>or it's a proposal fic SURPRISE!! when was the last time i wrote something different? 1907?</p><p>(just so we're clear harry is not a girl in this ok)</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Have Until The End Of Our Lives, I Believe

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by this --> http://hannahazza.tumblr.com/post/78760640397/tupelouhoney-onlyharrypls-reblog-if-u-a-lil

They're in the middle of an interview and Louis can see it coming. He knows it's coming. It's the inevitable and lately it's also only a matter of time before it somehow happens again. So this time it's during an interview on some American morning TV show and the hosts are past middle aged and surely couldn't care less about some hot shot boyband from overseas. So it really shouldn't come as a surprise when they get their names mixed up all over again.

“So who's getting married then?” the lady host asks, glancing down at her card quickly. “Liam, is it?” she asks, looking directly at Louis. Her co-host beside her nods eagerly.

“Er,” Liam says tentatively, looking uncomfortable on behalf of the interviewers. “Zayn's getting married actually,” he says with a laugh pointing at the boy next to Louis.

“Yeah, me,” Zayn says lowly giving a half smirk, raising his hands guiltily.

“Right, of course,” the male interview jumps in, laughing loudly.

“Lou's getting married as well,” Harry chirps in, turning to grin at the boy. Louis' mouth goes half open and he tries not to freeze and stare as Harry's eye twinkle at him. “ _You_ 're getting married.”

“Uh,” Louis coughs, looking uncomfortably to the side, shifting in his side. “Yeah, yeah,” he agrees with a nervous laugh. “'course.”

“He's just messing with ya,” Niall tells the hosts with a cackle when their gazes turn confused. They laugh some more and Louis faintly hears them continue the interview, but he's too busy trying not to break out in nervously hives to really pay attention.

It's that _thing_ Harry does. That thing where he casually mentions marriage. Or the lack thereof much more and Louis feels a little pressured. It's not that he doesn't want to get married – because he really fucking _does_ – he just doesn't know how to ask.

It'd be only half as bad if Harry wouldn't talk to literally anybody about the latest marriage proposal video he saw on YouTube where a guy jumps of the top of a roof to propose to his girlfriend. Well, mind Louis, he's not doing that.

And when they're chatting with the boys about their weekend plans, Liam asks if they're coming out for drinks on Saturday.

“Don't think we're going,” Harry says casually, sounding almost bored when he adds “You know what else we're not? Married.”

Louis' mouth goes dry and everybody is just staring at him like he's the solution to the problem and he knows he is, but how is he ever going to live up to Harry's expectations? Harry wants hearts and roses. Harry wants Louis to jump off a roof top, then do a full dance routine and take him on a scavenger hunt for the ring all together.

Louis is simply terrified.

Wasn't love supposed to be easy? Everybody says you just know when the right moment is there, but there won't ever fucking be a right moment if it needs to include a life band, circus animals and a quartette of skydiving mermaids. _Not happening_.

“You just asked Perrie, didn't you?” Louis huffs after their interview as they all trail back to their van, Harry and Niall up front laughing about something, the other three hanging back.

“Huh,” Zayn mumbles a little confused, hip-checking Louis accidentally as they walk. “Oh, the engagement thing! I told that story like a billion times alreadx, aren't you tired of it yet?”

“Yes,” Louis huffs. “I mean no, it's cute. Just-” he groans in frustration and let Liam wrap and arm around his shoulders.

“Don't be so hard on yourself.”

“I'm not,” Louis groans. “Harry is.”

“Oh shush,” Liam scolds, squeezing Louis' shoulder comfortingly. “He'll say yes no matter how you propose. You could probably text him right now and he'd reply with a quick ' _ok_ ' and you're done.”

Zayn scoffs from his other side, laughing to himself as Louis only glares.

“Pretty sure he wouldn't, because lately everything he only ever texts me are YouTube links to ' _The 10 Most Romantic Proposals You'll Ever See_ '.”

“It's a broad hint,” Liam says with a huff. “A broad hint that scream ' _I want you to marry me_ ' and not ' _I need a huge fucking gesture_ '.”

“Pretty sure you're wrong about that,” Louis grumbles.

“Pretty sure I'm not,” Liam replies, but they shut up after that as they reach the van and climb in behind Harry and Niall. The blonde grumbles a bit, but climbs further into the back to let Louis sink down into the seat next to Harry. The younger boy gives him a smile and puts an arm around him, pulling him closer until Louis' face is resting against his chest.

They stay quiet for a while and the van takes off, rocking them lightly until Louis eyes feel heavy all the sudden and he sags closer against Harry's body. With his eyes half closed he watches as Harry reaches down to scratch at his left hand, pinching his middlefinger hard.

“What you got on your finger, babe?” Louis mumbles sleepily, reaching out to take Harry's hand.

“Nothing,” Harry mumbles back, his lips resting against the top of Louis' head where he can feel his small breaths brushing over his hair.

“Nothing,” Harry repeats, spreading his fingers apart in a way that Perrie always shows off the cherry-sized diamond rock Zayn got her. Except that there's no ring on Harry's finger. “ _No-thing_ ,” Harry says _again_ , stretching the word and nudging his chin against Louis head now.

“Shut up,” Louis tells him, twisting his head away from his boyfriend to not let him see the weird mixture of color from paling and blushing at the same time on his face.

 

~

 

In the next two weeks Louis spends every waking minute trying to come up with the best proposal ever. The ring he bought back in England before their tour had even started in sitting heavy in his suitcase, hidden in his travel sized first aid kit his mom always insists on him taking, even though he never uses it.

Harry's comments get more frequent and more obvious in a way that Louis can't act like he doesn't get it anymore when Harry wakes him up in the morning with a nice and slow blowjob, dirty talking about how much better this were if it were their honeymoon.

And so Louis googles dancing classes, hot air balloon rides, sky writing services and several ' _100 places to see before you die_ '-lists. That is of course right after he finally takes the time to watch the eightythree YouTube videos Harry had sent him links of in the past two months. Seventyeight of those are proposal videos, two are about wedding plan and three about cute little kittens, but Louis skips those.

When he doesn't know if three hundred feet tall letters are big enough for the sky writing he calls Zayn over, to ditch the FIFA tournament Niall forced him into in favor of helping Louis set up a nice, _perfect_ proposal.

“Don't you think that's a bit.. too much?” Zayn asks sceptically, raising his eyebrows ridiculously high as his eyes skim over the fourteen open tabs in Louis' internet browser.

“You think?” Louis hums seriously, his eyes flitting over the website. “We could go with twohundredfity feet letters if you think those'd work better.”

Zayn gapes for a moment.

“It sounds a lot bigger than it actually is, because it's so far away and all,” Louis explains.

“No, I mean-” Zayn stops for a moment, gesturing towards Louis' laptop in general. “This _all_ , just- Take him to dinner. Bring flowers. Do some.. weird gay sex thing you two are into and then that's it. You don't need to..” he takes the mouse from Louis' hand and clicks on a random tap “get four and a half pounds of M&Ms with his face on it, Jesus Christ.”

Louis blushes lightly, taking the mouse back from Zayn and closing the M&Ms tap.

“I wasn't gonna do that anyway,” he snaps, slamming the laptop shut right after, before Zayn can catch a glimpse at the other taps he had still opened.

Zayn only looks back at him, his eyebrows raised again, biting down onto his lip sceptically.

“Stop looking at me like that,” Louis growls, punching Zayn in the arm, but his eyebrows lower not one bit. “I'm only going to do this once in my entire life, so I want it to be perfect. And it's _Harry_ and I want him to like it, I want him to say yes and even though you all keep acting like it's no big deal and you think he's going to say yes anyway.. it still is to _me_. It's a huge fucking deal! And don't tell me it wasn't to you when you were asking Perrie.”

“No, you're right,” Zayn agrees, tilting his head to the side a bit. “But _still_. Perrie and I went for dinner and after dessert I got down on one knee.. A classic. No.. snorkeling in Abu Dhabi or whatever.”

“Zay-yn,” Louis whines, rolling back onto his bed and throwing an arm across his face. “It's not easy like that, it's not-”

“Yes it is!” Zayn protests, elbowing Louis in the kidney and fighting off his angry hands afterwards. “Don't make this more complicated than it needs to be,” he says, pushing off the bed and taking a few steps towards the door. “And don't make Harry wait much longer, he's _annoying_ ,” he adds with a chuckle and Louis huffs loudly.

“You really think that's gonna get any better once we're engaged?” he calls after Zayn and hears him laughing as he walks down the hallway. He wants to yell after him, yell about flower arrangements and color coordinating and all the annoying things Harry is going to never shut up about once he has a wedding to plan, but Zayn is long gone and Harry could hear him yelling from one of the other rooms and Louis really has scored enough own goals already.

 

~

 

It's three days later that he's stood in the ensuite of Harry's and his shared hotel room, just out of the shower and towel wrapped around his hips. He's glancing at himself in the mirror, slowly spreading shaving cream all over his chin and neck, all the up to his ears before pulling out one of the crappy disposable razors eying it carefully. Those crappy blades never seem to like his face but on tour they're the only really option he's got. And while Harry has him convinced that little stubble he sports from time to time is sexy he won't let get it to a point where he looks homeless rather than effortlessly attractive.

So while he carefully lets the razor glide along his cheeks he thinks that maybe Harry would like a proposal like the one in the ' _Meet The Parents_ ' movie. The first one, where the kids are holding up the signs that spell out ' _Marry Me Pam_ '. It would obviously have to say ' _Marry Me Harry_ ', but maybe Louis could get the fans do it. During a show maybe, that would be _sick_! Nobody can top that kind of proposal, ha YouTube, take that!

On a second thought, that would of course kind of include Louis outing them, but they planned on doing that eventually anyways, so Harry probably wouldn't mind. Just management maybe, he'd have to clear that. He could probably ring the London headquarters after their morning interview and still reach someone there before-

“Fucking hell,” Louis curses as he watches fat drops of blood rolling down his neck slowly. He sets down the razor and wipes at the cut carefully, hissing when some of the shaving cream burns in the wound.

“You okay, babe?” he hears Harry call from the bedroom, probably still lounging naked under the covers.

“I fucking hate those disposable razors, I'm just gonna grow a fucking beard. I don't _fucking_ even care anymore.”

While he wipes off the rest of the shaving cream he can still hear Harry giggling from next door.

“You want me to get you a _fucking_ plaster?” Harry chuckles and Louis can hear him rustling around with the sheets and then stumbling around the room.

“I want you to get me a normal working razor.”

“Your cheek bones are just so unique and painfully attractive that no blade will ever be able to mold around them perfectly.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere,” Louis grumbles, ignoring the warmth that's pooling in his stomach. _Stupid love_.

“I could blow you,” Harry offers good naturedly, still shuffling through the other room, presumably in search of clothes. “You know, to lift your spirits.”

“Just get me a plaster,” Louis sighs, wiping some more at the cut that just won't stop bleeding.

“You still got that first aid kit?” Harry wonders out loud and Louis hums in response even though Harry is probably already digging through his stuff.

Louis goes to rip of a piece of toilet paper and lets it rest against the cut in hopes that it will stop the bleeding until Harry finds a plaster to put over it. The red color seeps through the thin paper right away and Louis makes a face, tilting his head back a bit and just waiting for the wound to heal up enough to stop hurting like a bitch while he washes the last of the shaving cream off his hands and chucks the razor.

He takes a breath and then a quick look at himself in the mirror as he hears a soft thudding sound coming from the other room.

“Harry?” he asks tentatively, worried that the wound that just barely stopped bleeding will go Niagara Falls on him again if he stresses his skin the slightest bit.

“Oh my God,” comes the rushed reply from the bedroom and Louis furrows his brows in concern and steps back into the room where Harry sits hunched over Louis' suitcase. All of Louis' neatly folded clothes are not folded neatly anymore and instead scattered across the floor and the only thing still left in the suitcase seems to be the first aid kit that Harry is staring at with wide eyes.

“Ah shit,” Louis mumbles under his breath as he sees the black velvet box in Harry's hand, the cap popped open and the facing away from Louis, so Harry must be starring right at the ring.

“Er,” Louis begins trying to come up with a fucking explanation for why the hell their aren't arranged dancers coming into the room just about now, preforming the flash mob of Harry's life.

Harry however, is faster.

“You complete idiot!” he pretty much yells, looking up at Louis with tears shimmering in his eyes. “I hate you so much, because I _love_ you so much and this is the single most stupidest and bestest proposal ever and you made me wait _forever_!” He's laughing now and he's crying and Louis just doesn't know what to do.

Harry's glancing up at him, clutching the box with the ring to his chest.

“If you think this is gonna save you from saying the little engagement speech I've been waiting for all my life, then you're thinking wrong, just so you know.”

“What,” is the only thing that Louis gets across his lips, starring down at Harry who is still only starring up at him, holding up the box for him now.

“No, Harry,” Louis says, clearing his throat and running a hand down his face. “This is not the.. the proposal. I have things planed and, and-” His breathing is getting shallow and his head is feeling light and dizzy as Harry's eyebrows dart down.

“Louis William Tomlinson, don't you dare make me wait one more fucking day,” he growls lowly, pushing himself up from the floor and stepping closer towards Louis. “You better be asking me to marry you _right now_ or we're not having sex until you do,” he threatens and Louis is sure he will laugh about this situation later but right now he's glad he can kneel down because his legs are giving out anyway and he feels shaky as he takes the ring box from Harry, holds onto both his hands and then gets down on one knee, right there in their messy hotel room between all his clothes and Harry's shoes. But Harry's smile is so fucking bright and Louis hasn't even said a word yet, so it's perfect either way and Louis is just really excited to get to spend the rest of his life with the adorably smiley boy in front of him.

He pops open the box and is about to open his mouth when Harry wriggles his left hand free, spreads his fingers apart, his entire body trembling with anticipation.

“On second thought, I can still listen to the speech later. Get right to the good part.”

Harry is grinning so widely and Louis just gapes because he spend _weeks_ perfecting this speech, but it really doesn't matter now.

“I don't know why,” he says, blinking up at Harry. “But I love you so much, that I sometimes can't physically bear it. Will you please, Harry Edward Styles, do me the absolute honor of becoming my husband?”

And then Harry is crying and nodding and crashing his lips against Louis so that they both topple over and lay spread across Louis' spare shirts and boxers as he slides the ring over Harry's finger and the younger boy blows him right there and then, swallowing him deep down and kissing him lovingly afterwards.

“I still wanna do all the crazy things you had planned for the proposal,” Harry says as they lay together, his lips grazing Louis' as he talks.

“You don't. They were stupid,” Louis tells him with a grin, pressing a quick kiss to Harry's lips.

“Really?” Harry asks, sounding intrigued. “Tell me all about it. We have until the end of our lives, I believe.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> comments and kudos are always lovely THANK YOUU !! x
> 
> Find me on Tumblr ----> hannahazza.tumblr.com


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